Progress Report
by Mabel Madness
Summary: ONESHOT (Not related to the Impulse series) To distract herself from her inappropriate thoughts, Doctor Harleen Quinzel takes a late lunch break. What will happen when the Joker arrives early for his therapy session and she's not there? All alone in her office with new toys to play with, what will happen? And what will he discover?


Harleen had never really been one for paperwork, so the fact that she was now sitting at her desk with piles upon piles of paper stacked high, and her laptop burning holes into her eyes wasn't really the way she wanted to spend her lunch break. She did this every time and she always swore to herself that she'd never let the admin pile up, but she was a creature of habit, and sometimes habits like these were hard to break.

"Why do I always leave things to the last minute?" Harleen groaned, pinching her eyes shut in frustration. Ever since she became the Joker's psychiatrist her peers, Doctor Leland and Doctor Arkham had asked for monthly progress reports on Gotham's most notorious criminal, and every month Harleen would leave it until the last hour before it was due to be submitted.

She'd been good with the first month, writing a daily report after every session with him, but as the weeks progressed so did her fondness for the green haired madman, and soon she found herself pushing the notepad to one side and leaning into his theatrical words as he spun another story for her to become entranced in.

But it wasn't just his words that distracted her, it was his presence. He held a power, a power that Harleen had never seen before, and his look...oh his look was so intimidating yet she still found her eyes drawn to him like a magnet. She new it was wrong to think about him like this but she just couldn't stop herself.

"Get a grip Harleen!" She scolded herself, feeling her mind slip to the moment she caught him pacing his cell with his Arkham issued jumpsuit tied around his waist, exposing his bare tattooed chest as he muttered incoherent words to himself. She'd walked down to his cell to discuss the benefits of art therapy, since he was so keen on stealing her ball point pens and doodling his name over and over again in various fonts. But when she did approach his cell, she found her eyes glued to his torso and the thighs tensed at the sight.

His gloriously green hair was a mess, sticking out in all different directions due to the fact he wasn't allowed hair product and his dangerous blue eyes narrowed, as if he was having an intense argument with himself. Breathing heavily at the sight of her patient, Harleen took careful steps backwards, hoping to disappear out of sight before he turned round and saw the drool hanging from the corner of her mouth. "Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She snapped, walking back to her office as quickly as she could.

Harleen had vowed from that day onward that she'd never wander down to his cell again or think of him beyond a professional capacity, but 4 days into the promise and she just couldn't help herself. The fact that she had to write a report on him and have a session with him in the next half an hour didn't really help numb the relentless images of the prominent veins which ran up his tensed arms like lightning bolts, and of course his sharp jawline that could cut you with just one look.

Sighing to herself, Harleen ripped off her thick black rimmed glasses and discarded them onto the files which lined her office desk. "This is no use." She muttered staring at the reflection of herself through the blank word document. Then suddenly her eyes brightened with a thought. "Food! Food will fix this." Harleen slammed her palms down on the table and jumped to her feet. Maybe a good dose of Arkham slop could help sort her thoughts out. With that in mind, she made her way over towards her office door and marched down to the canteen, where she hoped to god they had something on the menu that didn't involve soggy vegetables.

But as her heels carried her down the halls, another pair of footsteps were heard coming from the other direction.

"Aren't I a little bit early to see the dear old Doc?" The Joker asked the guard dragging him down the corridor with a mischievous smile playing on his ruby lips.

"She won't mind." The guard replied sharply, not wanting to engage with the Joker anymore than he had too.

"Well I hope you're right. I think our little Doc has a bad side and I'd hate to get on it…" J laughed, as they approached her office door which read the words 'DOCTOR ' in big bold writing. The guard stepped forward and gently knocked his knuckles against the surface, waiting for a response.

"Doctor Quinzel, the Joker's here for his session." The orderly pronounced, still not meeting a reply from the other side of the door. After waiting for a few minutes, he groaned in annoyance and pressed the door handle down, letting himself into her office. Once he entered, he dragged the Joker in behind himself and rolled his eyes at the empty room. "Just my luck." He said bitterly.

"Well...we are early." Joker teased, in a 'I told you so' tone.

"Shut it clown." The guard snapped before yanking on the Joker's cuffs. He looked down at his watch and rolled his eyes again, growing impatient. "Look, she's gonna be back an second. You stay here and behave in the meantime." He ordered, releasing his grip on the Joker's cuffs and gesturing towards the empty chair which sat opposite Harleen's desk.

"Oh I'll be a good boy, especially for my Doc." Joker growled, still with that grin playing across his lips.

"You better or it'll be straight jackets and solitary for you until further notice." He said with no real threatening tone behind the words.

"Your commitment to the job is admirable." J replied with a whisper of sarcasm laced through his voice.

"Whatever." The guard muttered before turning on his heel and walking straight out of the office door, leaving the Joker alone with loads of toys to play with.

"Oh it's like all my Christmases have come at one!" The Joker declared to an empty audience. He jumped to his feet immediately and made his way over towards Harleen desk. His eyes brightened when he saw a small collection of hairpins cast carelessly to the side. "This is just too good." He giggled, before taking one and bending it completely flat, after tampering with the strong metal clip he eventually molded it into the perfect shape to snap off his cuffs.

"C'mon." The Joker muttered, his tongue flicking out to swipe his lips as he rattled the pin around inside the handcuff lock. With a few more shakes, the cuffs clicked open and the Joker quickly released his wrists. Once free he smirked at the mess he saw in front of him, papers were everywhere, leaving no clear space to see the wood underneath. "Looks like my prim and proper Doctor needs a personal assistant." J said, reaching out for the desk chair and pulling it out to take a seat. "Good thing I know - Oh." The Joker paused, reading his own name across the top of every single page. "What do we have here?" Flicking through them all he saw half scribbled notes accompanied by the distinctive mark of a coffee ring stain against the page.

Leaning back onto the chair, he propped his feet up against the piles of papers and reached out for Harleen's glasses. He knew they were fake of course when he slipped them on, before drawing attention to the written words.

The Joker frowned as he read her italic handwriting against the lined paper. The scribbles read half-hearted attempts to understand him, all conjecture of course since all J ever did during his sessions was spin her web after web of lies and stories which never stuck to the basic guidelines of truth. But she listened anyway, with her chin cradled in between her hands as she nodded along to his every word. She'd mentioned in her notes that she found his physical twitches intriguing. The way he opened his mouth wide, exposing his grill to her when she asked a question.

Little did Harleen know of course that the Joker had naturally made mental notes himself, studying her as she studied him and he had to admit, he found her very, very interesting.

He was a very observant man, especially when it came to his business and recently Harleen had fallen into that same category. J noticed the little changes in her over the past few months since their sessions had started. Harleen began wearing formal slacks and comfortable shirts, but as the weeks progressed, her trousers had turned into skirts and her shirts had dropped a few sizes, tightening around her bust.

The Joker didn't class himself as a man driven by thoughts which were related to the human body, but he had to admit that every time he saw that hosiery get a shade darker, his fingers ached to rip them off, along with the other fabrics which caressed her every curve.

J growled at the thought of what she might be wearing today. "Something red." He muttered, remembering it had been exactly a week since she wore his favorite silk red shirt, and it was sure to be hugging her body today like it did every Wednesday.

Pulling back from his thoughts, he continued to scan the papers which creased in his large hands. But after a while, the words grew boring and repetitive. "Blah, blah, blah." J sighed, rolling his eyes under her thick rimmed glasses. "This place has lost its charm." He muttered distastefully. But his expression soon changed when he spotted the three little draws lining the left side of the desk. "Or perhaps it's just gotten more interesting…" Reaching down he tested the first draw, hoping that she hadn't locked It, and luckily she hadn't.

It was full to the brim with scrap pieces of paper, pencils and sweet wrappers. The Joker dug his hand into the small space and began rummaging around. He furrowed his brow when he felt a small photo frame stuffed at the back. Joker pulled it out and smiled when he saw the developed photo trapped behind a glass sheet and encased in a small silver frame.

The photo showed an image of Harleen and much to J's delight, it was very recent. But what didn't please him was the fact that she was accompanied by a man, a Calvin Klein model type of guy with tan skin, broad shoulders and sandy blonde hair, and what really made the Joker's blood boil was that this ape had his hand placed on Harleen's waist.

Any rational man would of placed the photo back to where he'd found it and not thought anymore about it. But the Joker wasn't a very rational man, he was a jealous one. A thousand reasons why Harleen was embraced with a man like that ran through his mind. Maybe he was a friend? No, Harleen didn't have friends. He was her only friend. Then maybe he was a relative? Again, no. Harleen's only family were back in Brooklyn and they were distant, only bothering to send her one Christmas card a year. That's if it didn't get 'lost' in the mail.

The Joker's jaw tensed as he inspected the photograph further. She was wearing a tight black cocktail dress which ended on her mid thigh, showing the flawless legs that the Joker had observed to go on for miles. Her smile was as bright as the red lipstick she wore and her hair was bundled over one shoulder. The way she was dressed suggested this wasn't a family reunion. No one would dress like that if they were meeting relatives. So that narrowed it down to a few more options. This Abercrombie Ken doll was either a friend or something more.

But J knew that Harleen wasn't seeing anyone, not a boyfriend at least. He'd quizzed her about it and a sense of embarrassment stuck her pretty little face when she replied with the fact that she'd never in fact had a boyfriend. Naturally this new information pleased him greatly. So if the guy wasn't a partner, then she definitely hadn't gotten intimate with him. Harleen didn't fuck around with men casually, she wasn't the type. Or at least he didn't think she was.

As he stared at the photo, more rage built up in the pit of his stomach. Finally with a low growl, he gripped it in his hands and flung the photograph across the room and snarled when he heard the glass shatter against the wall.

With a heavy glare smeared across his face, the Joker rolled his eyes towards the computer screen, catching his reflection through it. He stared back at himself wondering when this had all started, when did he start to care about his prissy little Doc? Why did it bother him so much that outside these walls she could do whatever she wanted, with whoever she wanted and he had no control over it. It bothered him because ever since the first day Doctor Harleen Quinzel became his psychiatrist, he owned her. He possessed her actions and he plagued her thoughts. But if that was the case, why had he become infected by her?

She'd gotten into his head, and now as he looked at the wall clock, he noticed that she was 10 minutes late for his session. He began to wonder where she was? And with every second that the clocked ticked by, it grew louder and louder, and eventually it's all the Joker could hear as he narrowed his eyes against the door which she should be stepping through at any moment.

Then suddenly interrupting the Joker from his hard glare, the laptop still positioned in front of him released a short, sharp 'ping' and the screen illuminated with the current page that she was working on before she'd left the office. He cocked his head to one side in curiosity as he read the few words which had been typed on an empty document screen:

 _July 2017 Inmate 0801 (The Joker)_

 _Monthly progress report_

 _During this month's sessions with the Jok_

J growled, feeling a burning sensation run through his fingertips as she didn't even have the good grace to finish typing his name before leaving the office to probably run some stupid errand which was keeping her from him. His nails ached to tap across the black keyboard printed with white letters and his top lips snarled at the thought of her repeating the lies that he'd read across the scraps of paper she had decorating her office desk. Then with that rage bubbling in mind, the Joker lost his last ounce of patience.

...

Harleen picked up her pace as she darted down the halls of Arkham Asylum. The queue for the canteen had been a mile long, making her late for her session with the Joker.

She sighed, knowing the reaction that she'd be greeted with when she opened her office door. The last time Harleen was late during one of their sessions, he refused to speak to her, resulting in an hour and a half consisting of nothing but pure silence. He sulked for days, truing his head away from her whenever she attempted to make conversation. No excuse was good enough to snap him out of his mood and eventually the only thing that made him release the vow of silence was when she offered to play his favorite game. Truth or dare.

With her office door insight, Harleen walked towards it, being careful not to trip over her new patent black heels. Reaching for the handle, she braced herself for the dark glare and bitter words that was sure to meet her ears as soon as she walked in.

"Mistah J, I'm sorry about being late. I went to get som-" She began, stepping through the door with her head bowed. But her words were stopped by the destruction she saw before her. Patient files littered the floor and her desk was trashed with more papers. Her chair looked as though it has been thrown across the room and the books which sat on her bookshelf had been ripped from their place, adding to the destruction on the floor. "Oh my God." Harleen gasped, taking one slow step forwards.

Her heels crunched against glass, then turning her attention downwards, she saw the photo frame that she'd kept stashed in her desk drawer. But the picture which she kept inside had vanished.

Harleen knelt down to run her hand across the floor, feeling the glass shards against her fingertips. Her eyes quickly darted up, remembering that the Joker was supposed to be in here and that he was probably the one responsible for her office looking like a bomb site. "J?" She called, her voice wobbling in confusion.

Suddenly the door that Harleen had entered through slammed shut, causing her to jump up from her position and turn on her heels sharply, and when she did, as short gasp left her lips when she came face to face with the Joker.

"What the hell is going on!?" Harleen asked, standing frozen on the spot in front of him.

"Oh no, no, no." Joker tutted, pushing himself off the closed door and slowly making his way towards her. Harleen stared into his violent blue eyes as she staggered backwards, trying to create distance between them. The Joker grinned, seeing her fully for the first time today.

She was of course wearing the silk shirt which he had predicted would be wrapped around her body, along with a short, tight black pencil skirt and tinted stockings with a black line running its way up her calves and disappearing under the hem of her skirt.

His pace quickened and so did hers. Harleen whimpered as her back softly made contact with the wall adjacent to the door which offered her only escape. J closed in, smirking when he saw how startled she was. "You don't get to ask me that." He breathed. When he reached within range, his hand shot out and grabbed her neck.

Harleen panicked, raising her own hands to claw at his desperately. Joker stepped again, pressing his whole body against hers and leaning into her ear, feeling stray strands of her blonde hair tickle the right side of his face. "Where the fuck have you been?" He snarled, increasing his grip.

Harleen gasped, trying to pull in as much oxygen as she could. "I'm sorry, I went to...I went...please I can't breathe…" She stuttered. The Joker pulled back from her ear, but kept his face close to hers as he searched her eyes. He growled when she pinched them shut and attempt to tip her head backwards to open her airway. J instantly pulled her forward and threw her head back into the wall. "Open your fucking eyes!" He spat, seeing her eyelids flutter open. "I won't ask you again _Harleeeeen_. Where were you? What was so important...what was more important than me?"

She shook her head from side to side, tears threatening the edge of her lash line. "Nothing, I only went to grab some food." Harleen explained. "Queue...there was a queue.."

The Joker's brow furrowed in confusion. His frown suddenly eased into a smile. "Well why didn't you say so!?" He giggled, softening the grip on her neck. Harleen took a shuddering breath, inhaling the air lost from his anger. It was only then that she realised how close he was. His body was pressed against hers in the most forceful way, and with every heavy breath she took, her chest strained against his.

A silence washed over them as Harleen ran her eyes over him. His mouth hung open as his grill caught the calming light of the office. The same metallic teeth that both frightened and thrilled her. His green hair had also fallen out of place, teasing the gap between her forehead and his.

"I'm sorry." She murmured, feeling the warmth of his muscular torso against her fragile frame.

"Shh…" The Joker cooed. He raised the same hand that had hurt her, to brush against her soft jawline. "We're not done yet. I have one more itty-bitty question or you Doctor."

Harleen nodded, not wanting to infuriate him further. The Joker smiled, and reached down into the inside of his jumpsuit. Harleen followed his movements, seeing a hint of his tight vest concealed by the Arkham uniform as his hands disappeared inside. He pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it up in front of her, showing the missing photograph from the frame.

Her eyes instantly shot to his, they held a type of anger, and anger she hadn't seen in him before. "What's this?" He asked.

"It's a photo." She replied bluntly, furious at his intrusion into her personal life. All fear left her body as she narrowed her eyes at him, before making an attempt to snatch the picture away.

"Naughty." He growled, pulling the photo out of her grasp. Joker then rolled his eyes over her body, noticing how her posture had changed into something more defiant. "Who's the child standing next to you?" He asked again, more firmly this time.

Harleen took a deep breath and lifted her head in an act of rebellion. "None of your business."

The Joker let out a breathless, almost wheezing laugh before slamming his left fist into the wall inches away from her head. She flinched, whimpering at the sudden outburst. He cocked his head to one side and snarled. "It is my business." He said, correcting her earlier statement. "Don't you get Harley?"

"Don't call me that." Harleen interrupted.

Joker frowned, mocking her words. "Why? Because you're finally realising that you belong to me? You're mine Harley Quinn. I own you. I have ever since you changed those trousers for skirts."

Harleen blushed instantly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks.

"Oh, there we go." J purred. "You didn't think I'd notice did you? I'm not like everyone else Harley. I see you so clearly. I can see what you are and what you'll become." He explained, trailing his right hand down to rest of her hip. Her body immediately reacted, pressing further into him. "You wear these for me, don't you?"

"No." She shuddered, feeling his fingers tap up along the curves of her body, now settling on her waist.

"This shirt, the silk shirt you always wear on Wednesdays." He murmured, bringing his face closer to hers as his fingers continued the journey up her body, tickling her right side, coming to settle just under the wire cup of her bra. Harleen bit her lip, feeling the silk pepper her skin with more force under the pressure of his hand. "You can deny it all you want. But I saw you taking a peek of me the other day in my cell. Your skin flushed, and your heart hammered didn't it Harley?" He muttered, pressing his lips against the shell of her ear, allowing his hot breath to travel across her. "You're aching for something you didn't even know you wanted until you met me."

"That's...not...that's not true." Harleen stuttered, pinching her eyes shut, trying to ignore his words, his touch and the intoxicating smell of him invading all of her senses.

The Joker giggled at her reaction and moved both his hands to the collar of her shirt, teasing the light material between his fingers. His lips hovered over hers as he tested the delicate little buttons which were no bigger than the plain faux diamond studs that she was wearing. Studying her bottom lip as she caught it yet again with her teeth, he popped the first button.

"Please." She whispered, feeling a second button come undone.

"Please what? What do you want me to do Harley?" J asked, taking the third, fourth and fifth button apart with his fingers. With every inch of her creamy fair skin that he revealed, he found himself wanting to touch it with his bare hand and taste it with his tongue. But equally he wanted to mark it, turn it purple and blue under his grip, he wanted to see red spill from it and decorate it in the most tantalizing way.

Harleen paused for a moment, wondering what her answer to his question would be. His touch sent fire through her veins, and tingles down her spine. How could she ask him to stop? He had barely touched her and he'd already made her feel something no one else in this world had. "I don't know, just don't stop." She answered, signing in relief as if the weight of the universe had been lifted from her shoulders.

J smirked, finally hearing the words that she couldn't even admit to herself hit his ears. He looked down to her chest and licked his lips at the sight of burgundy lace keeping her breasts which strained against the fabric captive.

He snapped his head up suddenly and narrowed his darkened eyes at her. "Expensive." J commented, brushing his knuckles against the lace. "New," He added, noticing that the material hadn't yet frayed under excessive use, "and all mine."

Harleen opened her eyes and met his for the first time since he unraveled her. She nodded slowly, as if it physically hurt her to admit that she'd brought the lingerie in the hope that one day he might see it.

Joker purred, moving his lips towards hers. He hesitated for a moment while his right hands pressed against the warm skin which graced her body. Harleen gasped at the cold contact of his open palm, but it soon turned to a stifled moan as his hand fluttered upwards, threatening to claim the flesh underneath her bra.

J rolled his eyes over her plump, dusted rose colored lips. He'd watched them move a thousand times, expelling nonsense to him and asking the most ridiculous questions, but now they seemed different, they looked different. He wondered if they'd taste as good as they looked, or even if they'd feel like the soft pillows they gave the impression to be.

He had to know for certain, and without allowing another second to tick by on the overhead clock, he crushed his lips against hers.

Much to his annoyance, she tasted better, felt better than his brain could ever of imagined and not before long, his tongue ran across her bottom lip, wanting to seek further into her embrace.

Harleen moaned, her darkest desires becoming reality when the Joker forced his tongue inside her mouth, exploring every inch which had remained undiscovered to him until now.

Her hands itched their way up to his shoulders, her nails biting into his Arkham Jumpsuit as his hands which had remained on her chest moved to her waist, squeezing her half exposed body into his. He growled over and over while his metal teeth ravaged her mouth, and even more so when he felt her dainty, manicured hands sift through his hair, touching where no one had ever dared to.

"Mistah J.." Harleen whispered into his ruby lips. "This is wrong."

J chuckled, reluctantly pulling away from her embrace. "You want to know what's wrong Harley?" He asked, resting his forehead against hers. He didn't wait for her to answer before continuing. "You've been wanting this for so long, you've tried so hard to get my attention and now you've got it. But while you've been strutting around in skirts that barely cover your ass, others have been looking too. Other people have been wanting to trespass on my property."

"No J." Harleen said, quickly defending herself. "That man-"

"Boy." The Joker corrected.

She sighed at his interruption. "That ma...boy in the photo, I went through med school with him, we had a reunion a couple of weeks ago. He's nothing to me, not like that anyway…" Harleen tried to explain. "He's not my type, and I'm not his."

"Liar. You're a woman, you're everyone's type." Joker snapped, his temper quickly flaring.

"No listen." Harleen repeated, moving her hands which were previously in his hair to cup his face. He instantly turned away, trying to shake her off but she persisted, bringing his attention back to her. "Being a woman is the reason why I'm not his type." She smiled softly.

Joker raised his brow, allowing his shoulders to relax. "Oh."

Harleen nodded, whilst running her fingers across his jawline. "I'm not interested in other men, not since I starting working here." She admitted, bowing her head slightly. "You're...you're right. I want you to see me as someone other than your Doctor. I know it's wrong, unprofessional and completely -"

J quickly pressed his index finger to her moist lips and silenced her, he eased into a dark smirk, making her skin crawl in the most delicious way. "You've never been my Doctor Harley..."

He then brought his attention back to her chest, her breasts still rising and falling heavily in time with his own breaths. J then moved his hand down to her left thigh. He grabbed the hem of her skirt roughly in his fist and yanked it up, gathering the material around her waist. He purred, now staring at the tops of her stockings and the matching burgundy underwear that still contrasted beautifully against her skin. "You act so innocent. But a good girl wouldn't wear something like this."

Harleen shook her head 'no' in agreement to his words. Joker continued to take in the sight with his deep blue eyes. He fluttered his fingertips over the nylon before moving them upward towards the lace that drove him wild. "Have you thought about me, when you're lying in bed all alone?" He asked. "Do you think about me when I'm not around?"

"Yes, everyday." Harleen replied, feeling his palm cup her most intimate area. She rolled her head back against the wall as he applied pressure.

"Do you want me to touch you?" Joker teased, feeling the dampness between her legs. "I want to hear you say it."

"Touch me." She begged, raising her hips towards his hand. The Joker chuckled at her desperation.

"Touch me, what?" He asked again.

"Please Mistah J." Harleen pleaded, breaking out into a moan when she felt his hand move again but his time towards the top of her lace underwear, quietly suggesting his next move.

"Good, now put hose two sentences together." J smirked, in the most patronizing voice.

"Touch me, please Mistah J. I need you to touch me." She replied. But when she felt his hands remain still, she threw her head back further in frustration. The Joker just continued to laugh, seeing her struggle against him.

"Admit you're mine." He finally said, dipping his hand under the lace, just barley grazing her bundle of nerves. Harleen squeezed her thighs together to relieve the tension building so painfully inside her.

"I'm yours." She whispered, arching her back into him. The Joker growled, pleased with the way she begged for him. He slipped his hand down quickly under the expensive lingerie, and rolled his head back at the feel of how responsive she was, and it was all for him.

Harleen tensed her tiny hands against the collar of his uniform as his digits explored her innocence, which craved him so badly.

While his right hand manipulated the spot between her legs, his left grabbed her right thigh roughly, so painfully in fact that it just added to the pleasure that Harleen was experiencing from his large calloused hands. He brought her leg up to loosely rest over his hip, allowing him to dive deeper into her folds and control everything she was feeling. Harleen dropped her head forward as she exposed more of herself for him, her forehead rested in the crook of his neck, where the Arkham collar met his earlobe. J relished in the sound and feel of her hot, labored breaths dancing across his skin, caressing the stark white complexion that no one had touched before, and he didn't know whether he loved or hated it.

"Mmmm...you like that don't you?" J moaned into her ear, just before latching his grill onto it, biting at the sensitive flesh.

Harleen nodded. "Yes, yes." She opened her mouth in a silent cry when she felt this large thumb bump against the spot which he had purposely avoided, just to drive her crazy. "Oh God." She whimpered, biting her lip so hard that it split under the force.

The Joker noticed it immediately, he released her right thigh and shoot his hand out to her neck as his other hand quickened in pace, rubbing furiously against her. A string of incoherent words left Harleen's bloody lips before the Joker pushed her neck back against the wall and covered her mouth with his, kissing her furiously. His tongue lapped at the red liquid on her bottom lip and the taste of her blood sent chills down his spine. Harleen rolled her eyes under her closed lids when she felt his straining hardness against her, and with that in mind she raised her right thigh once more and jerked her hips upwards to his, trying to create a delicious friction.

"Mistah J, I'm so…" She moaned, finishing her half sentence.

"Close?" He asked, grinding his hips against hers. J then narrowed his eyes at her trembling form. "Not yet, don't you dare come yet."

"It hurts." Harleen cried. "It hurts so good." She tried to fight the rising feeling inside her body, threatening to crash over at any moment. She just hoped - prayed that the Joker wouldn't torment her further with his skillful fingers.

It was like he could read her mind and pry into her darkest thoughts because as soon as her breaths turned short and sharp along with her brow knitting together under the intense pressure, the Joker quickly thrust two fingers inside of her, causing a whine to erupt from her throat. "Joker!"

He growled into her fair colored skin, moving his fingers and thumb at an almost frighteningly pace, along with his hips jerking to meet hers with only cotton separating the two. "Hold it." Joker snapped, feeling her walls clench so perfectly around his fingers. He groaned himself, wondering what it would feel like to be inside her completely and feel the tightness wrap itself around him. But above all he wondered whether he'd ever let it get that far.

"I can't!" She cried, her whimpers sounding painful but he knew there was pleasure laced there. Her fingers bit into his shoulders, digging into him like daggers, trying to hold on to what little restraint she had left. "Please! Please! Please!"

"C'mon then. Come for me Harley." He ordered, feeling her body flutter against his. Harleen opened her mouth wide and dropped her head forward once again, but this time she rested it against the Joker's forehead.

Breathless gasps, whimpers and moans escaped her plump lips as he continued his assault, feeling her body drench him in her passion. After feeling her contractions die down a little, he slowly released his fingers from her depths and removed his hand completely. She sighed at the loss of contact, noticing how empty she felt without him there.

Harleen's skin was flushed red and her broken lip was swollen, but none of that mattered, not when she saw the Joker lean away from her and press his wet fingers, covered with her desire into his mouth. His dangerous blue eyes locked onto hers and he flicked his tongue around them, devouring it as if it was his favorite treat. Which after today, definitely was.

After licking his thumb, index and middle finger clean, he sneered down at her, watching her catch her breath with her skirt still bunched up around her hips and her shirt unbuttoned. His body language changed into something more threatening as he pushed back against her. "Maybe you shouldn't mention that in your progress report." He warned, before stepping backwards completely and leaving her shaking against the wall.

But despite the confusion mixed with the aftermath of the pleasure he'd just given her, there was one thing she knew for sure, she would definitely be late for his session again next week.


End file.
